Reach for Heaven

by Marie Higgins

  Exhaling slowly, he frowned. Perhaps he would never know that answer. He glanced up the street, then turned and looked back down. This town was a nice place and would have been a good place to live, marry, and raise a family. Apparently, that’s not what the Lord had planned for Gage’s life after all.

  In the back of his mind, he remembered his father’s friend—Marvin Lancaster—who lived in Bonner County. Marvin might know where Gage could go to purchase land with good soil. It had been a few years since he’d seen Marv, and Gage almost felt guilty for using their friendship for help. Something in the back of his mind told him his father’s friend would indeed help Gage.

  The man’s oldest daughter, Violet, had always had doe-eyes for Gage since they were young. He grinned. Would she be able to catch his fancy? Maybe, after all these years, Violet was the one girl he was supposed to marry after all. Their families were close, so Gage knew they’d approve of him.

  Perhaps Bonner County was where his destiny pushed him after all.

  Chapter Four

  I should have taken the train.

  Another bone-jarring jolt slammed Adella against the older gentleman sitting next to her. After two days of traveling in late-May’s abnormally warm temperatures, her good humor had disappeared. The apology she felt obliged to issue refused to roll off her tongue, but when she looked at the man, she managed a smile.

  Drawn and weary expressions on the other passengers’ faces were testimony that they, too, were anxious for the journey to end. The rickety old coach took its toll on all, not just in shortened tempers and dust-covered faces, but also in sheer physical discomfort.

  She should have taken the train. Instead, she’d listened to Aunt Lillian and had gone on the stagecoach.

  The letter she had sent to her aunt and uncle less than a month ago had surprised them greatly, and they were anxious to see her again. Aunt Lillian explained in the letter that she would make all the arrangements, and Adella could stay with them during her visit to Bonner County, Idaho.

  Seeking a more comfortable position, Adella rearranged her brown skirt and adjusted her sore backside on the seat. From the pocket of her traveling coat, she took out her miniature timepiece and flipped open the gold case. She released a ragged sigh. Within one hour she’d be at the house she’d spent so much time as a child visiting her grandparents, which now was owned by her aunt and uncle.

  Her departure from Lewiston wasn’t as dramatic as she thought it would be with her sisters. She explained she was traveling to a teacher’s convention. Although she hated to lie, she couldn’t allow them to know where she was going just yet. She had to make certain everything would be safe...and if the Buchanan Gang was still on the loose, then nobody was safe!

  It had only taken three weeks for summer break at school to begin, and by that time she was packed and ready for her journey. Albert acted as if he was sad to see her leave, but she assured him she would return. He gave her a friendly hug, and for a moment she wished he had kissed her as well, but they parted knowing she would eventually come back.

  Without wanting to, Mr. Grayson’s face came to her mind. That was one man who had made an impression on her—not good at all—within the little time she’d known him. She was vastly relieved to hear that the mayor hadn’t sold his land to the rude Mr. Grayson. The rancher quietly left town before her trip, for which she was glad. It surprised her that he didn’t come to tell her goodbye, but then they had never really gotten along, so it was probably best that he didn’t say anything. Even now she wondered why she’d even found him remotely attractive since his attitude was not to her liking. Still, there were some things he’d done around town that made her think of him differently. There for a moment, she thought he had a heart and that he actually cared about others.

  “Ella, dear,” said the silver-haired woman across from her. “I must say you look remarkable well for a woman who just finished assisting the driver with the stagecoach wheel after it had broken.” Her withered hand fluttered against her chest.

  Adella grinned. Although it had seemed like a lifetime ago, she wasn’t totally foreign to that kind of work. “It was nothing, Mrs. Whitaker. When I was a little girl and my grandfather was still alive, I used to help him in his livery barn.”

  “That was a long time ago. It’s unheard of for a lady of your standing to do such a laborious, menial task.”

  Adella sat straight as possible in her seat, smiling at her chaperone who her aunt has assigned to travel with Adella. It was strange that the older woman even called her the nickname that Adella’s family had always called her.

  “Well,” Adella explained, “considering the driver needed help and I was the only one who could do it, I saw no harm in offering to assist. Like the rest of you, I wanted to get to my destination as soon as possible.”

  The other passengers in the coach nodded and passed her weary grins.

  Adella smoothed out the many wrinkles in her skirt caused by the long journey and close quarters. She really didn’t want to present herself to her aunt and uncle this way, but she had no choice. Adella hoped her relatives would understand that she was just helping the driver this one time...that she really was a schoolteacher and did act like a lady...most of the time.

  She also couldn’t wait to meet her cousins again. Seven years was too long. They would all be nearly grown by now. Violet was the oldest, only two years Adella’s senior. Violet had been the sweetest girl with the kindest heart, and Adella hoped that they would become good friends as adults.

  In Aunt Lillian’s last letter which informed Adella about the stagecoach and when it would leave, she had mentioned that Violet had recently become engaged. Although Adella was happy for her cousin, she would certainly miss out on the cousin-bonding they hadn’t had for seven years.

  Mrs. Whitaker waved her fan in front of her face. “Oh, I do hope we get there soon. This humidity is—”

  Loud pops from a gun echoed in the distance. The others gasped and cried out. Adella peeked out the window just as another gunshot broke the stillness. Pings from bullet shells ricocheted off the stagecoach near her head. Her heart plummeted, and she quickly ducked inside.

  The two older women screamed and crouched low as did the elderly man seated beside her. Adella didn’t dare risk sticking her head out again, but she couldn’t bear not knowing what was happening. Three more shots rang out, closer this time. A blood-chilling death cry came from the driver as he fell from his high seat past the carriage window and hit the ground with a thud. A panicked breath caught in her throat. The stagecoach jerked unsteadily, rocking passengers to one side when a rear wheel rose off the ground.

  “We ran over him,” one of her elderly companions screamed.

  Adella prayed for strength, then with shaky hands, pulled herself up and grabbed the door. Glancing out of the vehicle, six men on horseback rode toward them. They were some distance back but gaining quickly as if the devil was on their heels. Red bandanas over the lower half of their faces hid their identity.

  Her heart sank. What were the odds that these men were part of the Buchanan Gang that killed her family?

  She glanced at the driver seat. One man remained on top of the coach. With the one already down, the guard would need help controlling the team if he was to fight off bandits at the same time. Her chest tightened and for the first time in quite a while, she said a silent prayer...hoping that this time He’d answer her. Lord help us!

  On the floor, the wide-eyed passengers huddled together. They would be of no assistance. Without a second thought, Adella climbed out the window, clinging to the door. The vehicle swayed and she slipped. A small cry escaped from her throat.

  “Ella? What are you doing?” wailed Mrs. Whitaker.

  “Someone has to do something to help.” Adellla eased from her sitting position, and then lost her hold on the door. With her heart pounding against her ribs, she slashed her hands through the air and tried to find something to grab onto. Another rifle fired, the bullet
passed close to her head. The ground blurred beneath her and she screamed. Many hands from inside the coach grasped her feet, ankles, and skirt.

  “Ella, you won’t fall, we won’t let you,” Mrs. Whitaker shouted.

  Adella braced her hands on the side of the coach and used all her strength to pull herself up to sit on the window’s ledge. Snapping her head around, she looked over her shoulder. The bandits were closer. One hoisted a rifle to his shoulder and aimed. Adella gasped, and ducked. The bullet hit another mark and the lifeless guard fell from the driver’s seat.

  The horses raced out of control. A deep ache throbbed in her head. Someone must get hold of the reins and keep the coach from upsetting. If the bandits didn’t kill them, an overturned coach could easily do the deed.

  She glanced at the elderly passengers and clenched her jaw. It was left to her to stop the runaway coach.

  Oh, why didn’t I take the train?

  FOR ABOUT THE HUNDREDTH time in the past hour, Gage flipped open his pocket watch and checked the time. He switched his gaze up the road and stepped out of the depot. The town was quiet that afternoon, which made watching for the stagecoach nerve wracking. Although he thought he was wasting his time out in the humidity, he’d support his fiancée, Violet, as they waited for her cousin to arrive.

  Violet wouldn’t say much about her cousin, Ella. It was almost as if there was a deep dark family secret that Violet’s family didn’t wish Gage to know. Nevertheless, he’d find out in due time since he would be part of their family soon.

  Sighing, he hooked his fingers in his pockets and peered back down the street. Three weeks ago, he’d come out here to visit his father’s friends in hopes of finding land to purchase. Everything seemed to work out—as if the Lord had a hand in the decision-making.

  As luck would have it, Marvin Lancaster knew a man who had a lot of land who was looking for a buyer. Not only that, but Violet was as sweet as he remembered, and they seem to get along quite well. Within two weeks, the subject of marriage had popped up, and Gage found his future quickly laying out before him.

  At this point, he didn’t know if he was in love with Violet, but he could see himself falling in love. Eventually. She was a good woman, and would make a mighty fine wife.

  Swiping the back of his sleeve across his sweaty brow, he squinted up at the sun. The stagecoach was late, and according to the stationmaster inside the depot office, it was presumed missing. Letting out a deep groan, he rubbed his forehead. He supposed he should break the bad news to Violet.

  He ambled to where she stood on the boardwalk. He purposely kicked the heel of his boots in the dirt, creating a cloud of dust behind him. “Violet, honey...uh...something has happened to the stagecoach.”

  Violet’s head jerked his way. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, according to the telegraph, the stage should have been here on schedule.” Gage flipped open his pocket watch and checked the time again, then looked back up the road. “They’re an hour late.”

  Violet flexed her hands against her stomach while glancing up the street. “What is the depot going to do?”

  “Don’t you worry. They’ll send out the sheriff sooner or later.”

  “Oh, heavens. This isn’t good. What are we going to do, Gage? This is going to worry my parents, and Pa shouldn’t have any extra stress right now.”

  Gage gave her an indulgent smile. In three weeks, he’d learned that Violet was the type who worried about everything—sometimes she’d even gone overboard with concern. Yet, this time she had good cause. Through her fear, she still held herself straight, not a hair out of place, wearing a fresh, wrinkle-free gray dress, and she never, ever spoke in anything but gentle tones. Why, even now when she was so obviously upset, she made her plea with a soft voice.

  Violet was the perfect model for all women—female through and through, a little woman he’d be right proud to come home to. Yes, she’d make a fitting wife.

  With his knuckle, he lifted her small chin and looked into her brown eyes. “Don’t worry. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go look for the stagecoach. It can’t be far from here. It’s probably just a small delay. Maybe a wheel came loose or something.”

  Violet’s brown eyes pleaded with his. “Oh, Gage, do you mind?”

  He laughed heartily. “Why should I mind?”

  She gave him a slight smile. “How could I forget what a giving heart you have? You’re constantly helping our neighbors and people around town, and they just adore you for that.”

  He laughed again. “Well, I wouldn’t say they adore me, but thanks, anyway.” He touched his finger to the tip of her slightly freckled nose. “I’ll be back soon. If your ma happens by, tell her the stagecoach had a broken wheel. There’s no reason to worry your parents yet.”

  She nodded, still wringing her hands. “Be safe.”

  Gage strode to his horse, mounted and galloped away from the small chattering crowd assembled around the depot. He could tell by their wide-eyed expressions that they wondered what catastrophe had occurred to the delay the stagecoach.

  He rode hard, only stopping to drink from his canteen. His thoughts crept back to the town he’d visited three weeks ago. Although he was there for only a few days, he’d gotten to know a handful of people, and he’d really wanted to live there. He’d also made a few people upset...and it was the first person he’d met when arriving in Lewiston that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Perhaps it was because he’d never acted that way with a woman before. Usually he was charming and he enjoyed making women weak in the knees. Yet Miss St. James—Adella—seemed to rub him the wrong way, and he actually enjoyed sparring words with her just to see the anger in her cobalt eyes.

  Funny how different Violet was from Adella. Those two women were as different as sweet lemonade and corn liquor. It was a good thing he’d decided to come here instead of staying in Lewiston. If all women there were like Miss St. James, he would have never found a wife.

  As he guided his horse over a rise, a gunshot rang through the air. He reined to a stop. Another rifle fired. Panic filled him and he kicked his heels into the animal’s flanks, urging the horse forward in the direction of the sounds. When he arrived at the top of the knoll, he saw the stagecoach—and the group of riders shooting at it.

  His heart dropped as he withdrew his pistol. He spurred his horse into a hard gallop. Moving in close enough, he aimed and fired at the nearest rider. His shot rang true as the rider tumbled to the ground in a motionless heap. Gage turned his attention to the coach. Oh, good heavens...was that a woman in the driver’s seat fighting off the bandits as they swarmed the vehicle? She aimed her rifle and shot, killing the bandit holding onto the horse’s reins. Although he admired her courage, that confounded woman would get herself killed.

  Another rider climbed on the back of the vehicle. Terrified screams came from inside. Aiming, he narrowed his stare on the man and fired. The bandit fell backward off his horse, hitting the ground hard. Gage looked at the woman driver. She’d just blown a hole through a man right next to her. The man’s limp body hung halfway off the coach, smacking against the wheel before falling into the dust. She pulled the team to a stop then swung her rifle around, aiming at anything that moved.

  Another rider approached, keeping hidden behind the conveyance. Gage kicked his horse into action. She didn’t realize she was about to be ambushed.

  With deadly accuracy, Gage aimed at the remaining bandit and pulled the trigger. The bandit howled in agony and fell from his horse. Gage rode up to him, dismounted, and grabbed the man’s weapon.

  When the sounds of gunfire and whining bullets ended, the passengers peeked out the window. The door opened. Two older women and an elderly gentleman hobbled out. The woman in the driver’s seat climbed down and surveyed the damage, still swinging her rifle about. They all looked dazed, but not seriously injured.

  Where was Violet’s cousin? Could this woman who’d been driving the stage be Ella? His heart plu
mmeted. Or was Ella injured—or worse...could she have been killed in the shooting?

  Gage walked closer, but as soon as he neared, the woman brought up her rifle, pointing it at his heart.

  “Whoa.” He raised his hands to let the little lady see he was no threat.

  Her dress had been torn, and her shoulder was caked with blood. A purple goose egg knotted her forehead, surrounded by scratches, and her face was marred with dirt. Her hair had lost its pins, and her auburn hair fell all around her shoulders in disarray.

  Familiarity tugged at his memory. Why did she resemble Miss St. James so much? He shook his head, wishing he could forget about that woman once and for all. But when he opened his eyes again, he knew he wasn’t imagining her. This was Adella St. James! Or her twin.

  Yet, if it was Adella, why wasn’t she dressed more proper? And why was a rifle in her hands?

  Apparently, she didn’t recognize him, though, so perhaps he was wrong about her identity. He tipped his hat. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His gaze strayed again to her wounded shoulder. “I’ve come to help.”

  She staggered, and Gage instinctively moved to help. Her rifle flew up, stopping him in his tracks.

  When her gaze swept over his face, she sighed and lowered her gun. “I can’t believe it...my prayers have been answered. Thank goodness you’ve come,” she muttered before her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled to the ground.

  Gage rushed to her and scooped her into his arms as fast as lightning. “Someone give me something to stop the bleeding.”

  A silver-haired woman handed him a lacy handkerchief. “The poor brave little thing,” she murmured. “I hope she isn’t hurt badly.”

  “It’s a good thing you showed up when you did, young man,” said the elderly gentleman. “Those bandits killed the driver and guard. We would all be dead now if it wasn’t for you.”